Crisis Averted
by risseb1123
Summary: A drunken Abby makes an itty-bitty move on Gibbs.


This story is filler for _Bloodbath, _where Abby spends the night at Gibbs' house under protective custody, and ends up getting spectacularly drunk. This is my take on what could've happened that night.

Beta: PT21

Rating: T

Disclaimer: These characters belong to CBS, not me.

Summary: A drunken Abby makes an itty-bitty move on Gibbs.

Crisis Averted

"It's not my fault, Gibbs! It's not my fault," Abby exclaims.

That's my girl. It's not your fault that some obsessed, delusional ex-boyfriend decided to stalk you, I think, as I sit perched on the edge of my partially-finished boat. Here she is, in my basement, experiencing the no-nonsense-Gibbs-version of protective custody – McGee having royally screwed the pooch on the first one. Protecting her is as instinctual as breathing and I like to breathe. I still can't figure out how she can be as drunk as a sailor, yet so utterly adorable.

I'd do anything for Abby. I just wish she had confided in me about Mikel before things got so out of hand. What did she see in that guy anyway? He looks like a circus freak. Abby is much too good for him. Hell, she's too good for many of the guys she dates. It's enough to make me want to sequester her sometimes – to set her aside and give her a good talking to about the choices she's making. Life's too short to waste on foolishness. She needs to figure out what she wants and go for it, and to not take no for an answer.

I realize the irony in what I'm saying. I'm no fool. I see the way Abby sometimes looks at me, but some things are never supposed to be and my hooking up with Abby is one of those things. In a world where Rule Number 12 doesn't exist and Abby is a decade older, maybe. But this reality says, hell no. Keep it in your pants, Gibbs. Don't let your personal desires cloud your judgement.

A chiseled slice of wood off my carefully crafted planking later, and it's time to put away the grown-up toys. Abby willingly hands over the tools, and I remove the bottle of bourbon from her possession. She's had enough.

"Abby, it's time for bed." I guide her by the hand to the basement stairs.

"I've already told you, Gibbs. I can't fall asleep. I'm going to be awake all night. What a god-awful witness I'll be on the stand tomorrow! That mean lawyer lady will have a f-field day," Abby sputters, leaning on my arm for support as we climb the basement stairs.

"Abby, you will do fine."

We painstakingly make it up two flights of stairs to the second level just in time. On wobbly legs, Abby takes off for the bathroom. Once inside she quickly pulls down her pants and plunks down on the toilet to relieve herself. I turn my back to the door and wait for her to finish.

"Wash your hands, Abby," I say once the rush of the toilet's flushing indicates she's done.

"Yes, Daddy...um- Gibbs!" I roll my eyes at the daddy quip.

"You're hilarious, Abs."

"Kidding, Gibbs. You're way too sexy to be my daddy!" She reaches up to hold my face in her clean, wet hands. "Just look at those piercing blue eyes. I t-tell you one thing, my handsome protector. You are hot, hot, hot!" She exclaims, flailing her arms in the air, which in her drunken state, causes her to lose balance. She falls towards me, and I catch and hold her in my arms. "Woo! You've saved me!"

"I want you in bed, now." I say, instantly regretting my choice of words. Abby's body relaxes into mine.

"You want me...in bed? Now?" She asks, her voice soft and low.

"Contain yourself there, Abs." I release my hold on her waist. Abby steps back and says, rather loudly,

"Gibbs! You have noooo idea how long I've waited to hear you say that!" Instead of responding, I whisk her around, and steer her down the hall to the spare bedroom.

"Get into bed," I say in my most commanding tone, as I stand immobile in the bedroom doorway. I haven't crossed the threshold and have no intention of doing so. Abby juts out her bottom lip but complies. She slides beneath the covers, and pulls them all the way up to her chin – almost like she's barricading herself beneath as if her life depends on it.

"Goodnight, Abby." I grab the doorknob.

"Goodnight, Gibbs." I close the door against its frame, and make my way down the hall to my bedroom. It's going to be a long night. My gut tells me that Mikel, as delusional as he is, hasn't the balls to try anything here, so I strip down to my boxers and position myself on top of the covers. It's time for a few hours of shuteye. I am well on my way to a deep sleep when I hear something that jolts me to full alertness. The sounds are coming from the direction of the spare bedroom where Abby is sleeping. I grab my gun off the nightstand and carefully make my way down the hall.

"No...no...s-stop. Stop, Mikel. Don't hurt me!" Abby says, her words slurred. I can't believe that bastard had the audacity to come here. I burst into her room, my gun cocked and ready. A quick glance around reveals that Abby is alone. Alone and still asleep. I lower my weapon and put in on the nightstand closest to me.

"Don't do it, Mikel...s-stop...your hurting me," Abby continues. She tosses and turns on the bed in obvious distress, her sweaty bangs plastered to her face. I sit on the bed and gently draw her into my arms. Abby's fight or flight instinct kicks in, and she takes a couple of swings at me, but I quickly pin her arms to her sides with my embrace.

"It's just a dream, Abby. It's only a dream. You're safe...I've got you," I say softly, as I slowly recline so that I'm flat on my back with her held in my arms. Soon, Abby relaxes and allows me to hold her without struggling.

"Gibbs," she says, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. "Don't let him get me."

"Not a chance, Abs." I smooth her hair gently. She turns on her side so that the entire front of her body is pressed into mine. Nuzzling her face into my neck, she sighs deeply, completely content. If only her contentment wasn't wreaking havoc on my libido. To make matters worse, she slaps her hand on my bare chest, resting it, palm down, dead center. I am pretty sure she can feel the increase in my heart rate right about now. Her fingers lazily play with my chest hairs.

"Gibbs?"

"Yes, Abby."

"I know I'm still tipsy, because if I weren't, I wouldn't say what I'm about to say."

"Do I want to hear this?"

"Probably not, and sober Abby would respect that, but intoxicated Abby just wants to get this out in the open." I sigh deeply and wait for the other foot to fall. "I know that you'll never allow anything to happen between us..." she says, pausing.

"Go ahead, Abby," I say, realizing I'll probably regret it later.

"But if for some totally way-out-there reason you should ever change your mind, I hope it's because I've shared this with you."

"Shared what with me, Abs?" Abby closes her eyes, and squeezes me tight.

"How good I know we'd be together – in bed, I mean."

"Oh? And how do you know that?"

"Because of how I feel right now, just being held in your arms. It's like every cell in my body is jazzed – like somehow, they know this is a good thing; this chemistry between you and I. And don't even try to deny it, Gibbs. I know you feel it too. And it's not some random, normal physical reaction to our current predicament. Our bodies know the truth. They already know that should you drop all pretense, and simply rip off my clothes, and make mad love to me, that it would be the most awesome, earth-shattering sexual experience either of us has ever had."

With that proclamation off her chest, Abby falls quiet once again. The warmth of her breath caresses my neck in sensual swirls as she allows her now-spoken desire to unfurl. I notice that her breathing has become deeper, and faster, as has mine. Lying here with her wrapped in my arms, her form flushed tightly against me, it's impossible to ignore the way my body craves hers. We lie together in silence as I slowly resume caressing her hair. I try willing my body to behave, but it's not listening to me – only to the firm yet soft curve of Abby's breasts pressing into my side with each and every breath she takes. To the warmth emanating from her core, and the firmness of her shapely legs that seem to go on for miles. Soon, her hand begins to do some caressing of its own, trailing a path down my chest to my stomach, where she creates small, sensual circles with her fingertips.

"I wish things didn't have to be this way. That there was some way we could act on our attraction to one another. I think I'd just die if you kissed me," she says, breathily.

"Abby...please...," I say. My voice has taken on a huskier, deeper timbre.

"Just one kiss? I promise to go to sleep if you'll kiss me one time."

"Abby, I kiss you all the time."

"Not like this you don't."

Propping herself up onto one elbow, Abby leans over and kisses me deeply, sensually. Her hand snakes around the back of my neck to hold our kiss in place as she angles her head a bit for better access. Without consent, a low, hungry moan rumbles in my throat, surprising me with its voracity. Abby's tongue flickers in and out of my mouth, and she gingerly nibbles on my bottom lip. She tastes of bourbon and sunshine; pure perfection. It isn't a kiss as much as a declaration of shared passion – her somewhat inebriated state the ruse that disguises it. And I am the sap allowing it to happen.

What am I doing? It's a dangerous situation to fine oneself in; in bed with an inebriated subordinate, wearing only boxers. Trying to muster up the wherewithal to bring things back under control is hard, but I reluctantly end our kiss and say,

"You're right. I don't kiss you like that."

"It kind of makes you wish you did, doesn't it?" Then Abby scoots down so that her face is in my neck; breathes in deeply, closes her eyes and falls asleep just like that. That's my Abby. I'm not altogether sure whether or not she means to be a tease, but... oh well. Crisis averted.

~The End~


End file.
